You Scare Me (And I Love It)
by i-once-wrote-a-dream
Summary: He's chill. Except he isn't when he feels something hit the back of his head. He doesn't dare look back, but his face is flushed and heat pools around his ears and neck. He sits up straighter and forces himself to rewrite the last sentence. Alternatively, Isak's got a secret admirer and Even is persistent.


Isak hates being different. He does his best to be average. So when he's bumped up to the third year biology class, he's not exactly thrilled. (Actually he's over the moon. But no one needs to know that.) The problem is that, as chill as he is, the stress of trying to blend in with his older classmates leaves him sleepless most nights. Not that he got much sleep anyway, but still. He has a reputation to protect and fucking up in front of a bunch of third years isn't going to help him. Especially when that hot blond from the cafeteria sits two tables behind him.

So he keeps his head down. Doesn't interact with them much more than necessary. Does the work, aces the tests. He's chill. Except he isn't when he feels something hit the back of his head. He doesn't dare look back, but his face is flushed and heat pools around his ears and neck. He sits up straighter and forces himself to rewrite the last sentence.

Isak, by no means, is a weak boy. In fact, he's gotten into a fair few fights and held his own quite well, thank you very much. He just can't bear the thought of people talking about him. Laughing behind his back. Like they know what he so desperately tries to hide from the world. Logically, he knows that there's no way anyone could know, but fear is irrational. And Isak is terrified.

He's been hit at least three more times throughout the whole lesson. He's quite proud that he hadn't turned once. But he's dying to know what the assault was for. Who was behind it. So he sits still. Slowly gathering his books, waiting for the class to filter out, memorizing the faces of the students who sit behind him. He accidentally makes eye contact with 'Cafeteria Hottie' and quickly averts his gaze. Not before he catches sight of those pouty lips breaking into a blinding grin.

It's not gay if he looks away. At least that's what he tells himself. And he most certainly _did not_ stare at him walking out. Not at all.

He's about to sort through the crumpled wads of paper when his teacher reminds him to get the hell to his next class.

 _Fuck that._ Isak's had a stressful day and skipping one chemistry class won't kill him.

Isak is on the bus home when he remembers the paper clenched in his fist. He slowly opens one up and lets out a quiet _hva faen?_ Because what is this? There's a drawing of a curvaceous banana in a bikini with a speech bubble saying _'I find you a peeling.'_

It shouldn't be so endearing to Isak, but really, he loves it. It must be meant for someone else, though. No one thinks of Isak beyond the odd hook up, so he chalks it up to someone with an awful shot. The rest are silly doodles. One of their teacher in a Godzilla-esque scene, ripping apart buildings, people running away from it. A heart with an I in it. It made Isak want to hug a stranger and knock over a trashcan all at once. The notes are for him and he doesn't know what to think. He knows that there are five students who sit behind him. Three girls and two guys. It really could be any one of them.

Two _boys._ Isak is pretty sure he's terrified.

He's very tempted to skip his class today. He's endured three weeks of the "anonymous" (he could turn around at any time, but he's too scared to look) notes and he's not sure if he can take it anymore. They range from a _hope you're having a good_ day to a _God, I hate this class You're my favourite part._ The thing is...someone in that class _likes_ him and there's a forty percent chance that they aren't a very female person. Isak thinks that's forty percent more than what he's comfortable with and he can't help but feel like he's been found out. Except he really fucking likes the notes. And doesn't want them to stop. And then there's the ten percent rule to consider. He ends up going.

The first note comes in about halfway through the lesson. He leans down to quickly pick it up.

What he sees makes him sputter a cough. Isak almost wants to be their friend. Almost. It's a bunch of dicks. Just like. Dicks. Some of them are so detailed, he's a little embarrassed to look at them in class. _I'm adickted to you._ It's crude and sweet. And now he's convinced it's from a boy. His hand trembles a little. He's scared of what it means, but he's also really happy. The thought of a boy wanting him makes his stomach flip pleasantly.

Isak stares at the note a little longer, reveling in the fact that _holy shit_ _there's a boy who likes him._ And, fuck, if that doesn't feel good. Then something lands on the table in front of him and there's a quiet hiss of _yessss_ somewhere behind him. He scrambles to open the balled up paper.

 _You're so cute. Text me?_

There's a number there.

This time he finds the courage to whip his head back. Directly behind him a pair of girls are laughing silently at their phones. _Not them._ He focuses briefly at the next table, but the students there are working. Finally, he meets his eyes. Cafeteria Hottie. He's looking at Isak with an amused smile, eyebrows raised all the way up.

"Isak, eyes up front, please." He turns back so quickly that he's certain he's got whiplash.

"Sorry." Could the ground just open up and swallow him whole, please?

On days like this, Isak is terrified.

"Halla." Isak didn't need to look up from his phone to know who it was. He's heard that voice before. In the cafeteria. In his biology class. It's Cafeteria Hottie, and _faen_ he's even more beautiful up close.

"Hei." Of course his voice cracks. He doesn't really dwell on it, though.

They stand in silence, swaying slightly with the movement of the bus.

"Awesome conversation, though." Isak lets out a short laugh. He needs to say something. Anything.

"I. Um. I got your notes."

"I know." Isak never really notices eyebrows (except for maybe Jonas' but that doesn't count because Jonas' eyebrows are their own continent), but he's convinced that Even has the most expressive eyebrows he's ever seen. Isak sees mirth, and hope and happiness. It might be his eyes too. His whole face screams emotions and Isak drinks them in.

"Yeah. The drawings were good. Really funny." He lets the corner of his mouth lift up. He doesn't know what he did to deserve this but he's going with it. "A lot of dicks though." Even's laughing like it's the best joke he's ever heard, and Isak's filled with fluttery gay feelings. He's not even that bothered, and decides to make it his life's mission to keep Even laughing like that.

"Come over to my place?" They're still giggling, but Even's tone is soft, eyes hopeful. He nods, lips pursed a little.

"Sounds chill." And Isak isn't terrified.


End file.
